


The Right Wave

by blackgoliath



Series: Graceland More Like Gayland [1]
Category: Graceland (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, I am so sorry, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-08
Updated: 2013-05-08
Packaged: 2017-12-10 18:57:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/789127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackgoliath/pseuds/blackgoliath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Surfer AU: the Graceland gang goes to the beach every day to surf and one particular morning Mike finds out that maybe wiping out isn't so bad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Right Wave

They got up at the crack of dawn every day, all ripped jeans and sun-bleached hair and skin burned an almost nut brown, boards strapped to the top of the jeep and shoved in the back and whoever got out of the house the slowest had to squeeze in the trunk space with everyone’s extra shit. Usually these days that was Mike, while Briggs drove with an icy Lauren in the front seat (she was still irritated that Mike had taken Donny’s room while he was recovering from a broken leg and some cracked ribs in the hospital) and Charley, Johnny and DJ all stuffed in the backseat, shoving at each other and laughing, and even though Mike had the nose of a surfboard shoved up his ass half the time these were still the happiest days of his life. 

One morning he even managed to get up and achieve his dream seat, right up front next to Briggs, while Johnny had to crawl in between their boards. The whole way to the beach he and Briggs chatted about nothing, as if they were old friends, as if Mike hadn’t just met his fucking surfing _hero_ since he first started surfing, three weeks ago when he’d come out to Graceland. Whenever Briggs would glance over at him over the top of his sunglasses and smile Mike felt this warmth spread out from his chest down to his fingers and toes.

The waves that morning were bigger than usual, choppy in the strong winds of a coming storm. Not the safest conditions, but what the fuck were any of them doing out there if they weren’t prepared to take a risk once in a while?

When they paddled out into the water it took longer than he liked for Mike to catch a wave; both Johnny and Charley rode in and paddled back out twice before a promising one even came Mike’s way. He was hanging over by Briggs, who’d caught a nice curl (Mike had wished for a moment that he was still on the beach with Lauren, just so he could have seen it from the other side), and when they spotted a good surge heading their way Briggs waved at Mike.

“You take this one!” Mike nodded and waited for the perfect moment before he started paddling, working his muscular arms in the water so he’d be right where he needed to be when the wave broke. As soon as he got up on his board and felt the wave take him, however, he knew something was wrong. He’d been too quick, gotten on too early; his balance was off, the wave was going to take him under, he could feel that it was going to happen but there was nothing he could do about it. He heard Briggs shouting his name before the wave broke over top of him and he was pulled under.

The world spun, water tugging at him, twisting him under the surface. He felt the tension of the strap on his ankle connecting him to his board snap under the force of the wave, and then he was tumbling forward, everything a dark gritty greenish blue as he fought to figure out which way was up. His face smacked into the sand at the water’s edge and he rolled up onto the beach.

He knew he wasn’t moving but the world was still spinning, and he could see the edges of his vision darkening as his body slipped out of consciousness. There were blurry, rough shapes above him, hard to make out through sand-encrusted and half-closed eyes, and when he didn’t respond to whatever it was they were shouting he felt warm rough hands start pushing on his chest.

And then his nose was pinched shut and someone’s mouth was on his, chapped lips sliding over his own as whoever it was forced air back into his lungs. He could feel it working, feel the water inside him being pushed up his throat, but in that moment just before it burst out of his mouth he caught the lips of whoever it was that had saved him and he kissed them.

He thought he recognized those hands.

And then they were pulling back as he sat up, coughing up a lungful of water, his throat and chest burning from the effort of expelling the salty liquid. When he could breathe and think again Mike looked up at the ring of relieved faces surrounding him.

“I wrecked that pretty bad, huh?” he croaked. Johnny laughed and grabbed him and pulled him in for a hard hug, which Mike returned, though somewhat half-heartedly, if only because he’d caught Briggs’ eye and in that moment understood that he’d been right. He’d recognized those hands, those lips that he’d looked at a little too much since he’d come here. He’d judged his savior’s identity correctly. 

When everyone had calmed down Mike went to Briggs, who was sitting on his board by himself off to the side. Crossing his legs and plopping on the sand, Mike offered a grateful smile.

“Thanks, man. You kind of saved my life back there.”

“Yeah.” Briggs turned and looked at him, and Mike had to fight hard against the flush creeping up his neck and onto his cheeks. Briggs stared at him for a long moment, then stood up, grabbing his board. Mike planned on staying right where he was (it was difficult to move anyway when you were rooted to the spot in embarrassment) but then Briggs leaned down as he passed and whispered, “My room. Eight o’clock. Tonight.” in Mike’s ear before walking back toward the others.

Mike wasn’t capable of the willpower needed to keep the giddy grin off his face.

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: all of these characters of course belong to the USA television network


End file.
